By: Blonde One
No matter how many times I walk past the grave of Kitty Jay I never tire of stopping to say a quick hello and having a look at the gifts that she has been left. This time there was the usual excellent assortment of things: natural and man-made. There were coins, flowers, decorated stones, jewellery, shells and even a mini Christmas tree. I’m fairly sure that she would be pleased and suitably flattered that people still care after all this time.
She was reputed to have hanged herself during the late eighteenth century after falling in love with her master’s son and becoming pregnant with his baby. As was the custom back then, she was buried in unconsecrated ground at the crossroads between parishes because of her suicide. It’s a sad but probably quite common tale of the time, but one that seems to have captured the imagination and hearts of locals and visitors to Dartmoor. Locals will tell of ghostly spectres visiting the grave late at night and of fresh flowers being placed every day by an unknown visitor. Whatever the legend that surrounds the grave it’s a very well loved spot of mine and well worth a visit.